April 30, 2014 - Post Op Day #2 - Where's the olive oil?

We made it 48 hours post surgery. It’s to be celebrated. We are all in one piece and still speaking to each other.  Actually, in usual fashion Ron has been such a trooper.  From his perspective he would probably say this has been the easiest surgery as of yet – did I say no drains!?! He has been able to be pretty hands free this go round. I suspect he is very delighted in that. I’m still feeling the groggy feeling so you will have to be patient with me as I type today. No promises you will find complete sentences.

Yesterday was slow moving for sure. I’m laughing that I look like I am 9 months pregnant trying to get up out of a chair or shuffling through the house. It’s almost impossible to bend at the waist, so if something gets dropped on the floor, it stays there until Ron comes by to pick it up. And I’m actually fairly comfortable as long as I sit perfectly still. At times, I forget I’m “injured”. But that goes away as quickly as it came when I have to reach for something or head for a bathroom break. There is no way I can get dressed by myself yet, but it will come maybe later this week. The shoes will be the last “success” as there is no way I can reach my feet. For now, it’s flip flops.  We spent the afternoon yesterday removing bandages, eight in all. Two on the lower abdomen (this must be where he inserted that awful suction tube that gave me nightmares), then 3 more on each boob. I’m a little baffled by the 3 on the boobs because I can very easily see all of the injection spots that number at least in the teens, so I’m not sure what the 3 extra holes were for on each side. They have stitches in them so I can only assume maybe suction tubes were there to remove extra fluid. But I do know I don’t like how they all weep fluid. Thankfully, that is much less today and when I go to change today’s bandages I am hopeful all but one will now be dry. I also don’t love that I have gained an extra belly button.  My new claim to fame and maybe a future source of stupid human tricks. The main insertion sight (my new belly button) is located a few centimeters below my original belly button. It freaks me out a tad. This was also the culprit of the majority of the drainage I had yesterday. I learned that when they do liposuction they also inject fluid into the area to help break up the fat cells. This fluid also needs a way back out of the body. Hence the new “belly button” hole. Isn’t that fun? Oh my. My stomach churns just thinking about it. Surely this thing will seal itself off in no time. It has to. My nausea persists with a force and these wounds don’t help that.

The bruising is a good bit less than we expected. They are scattered on both impostors and across the lower abdomen but they aren't near the darkness we expected. But the pain is there and a reminder of what I have done.  Last night, I reached out to my friend Becky, as we will call her here. She had this procedure a few months ago. I wanted to see how long this pain was going to last, hopeful she would say a day or two. Well NOOOO, she had to break my bubble. Really tough pain for at least a week, followed by several weeks of “uncomfortable”.  Well that is just delightful, Becky.  Sort of wishing she had lied to me. = ) Well, we keep trucking on all the same. I’m supposed to be back at work tomorrow. Hum….I certainly can’t imagine driving or walking around to see patients. Maybe a miracle will happen in this next 24 hours.

The best comedy comes with Spanx. Yesterday when we changed the bandages we also changed out the pressure vests. Saying they were uncomfortable is an understatement. Think corset without the lovely dress to accompany it. I shed both vests and switched over to a pair of Spanx. Well, we all know Spanx are next to nearly impossible to put on a normal body without lubing up with olive oil. Imagine trying to work them on up over your legs and hips when your pectoral muscles are retaliating and your abdomen wants nothing to do with the task. There was a little laughter and a few tears, but finally we accomplished the task and I will be sporting some Spanx for the next few weeks.  This is supposed to help with recovery time and lessen the bleeding happening at the donor sites. Needless to say, I can’t wait until the last minute to take a bathroom break. All and all the Spanx feel a lot better than the vests. So I’m grateful.

My top complaints today:

1.       Persistent nausea

2.       Abdominal pain

3.       Constant itching (maybe a reaction to my meds?)

4.       The pull of the stitches when moving about

My top blessings today:

1.       An amazing husband who keeps trucking along with me

2.       Bloated boobs and hopefully restored blood flow

3.       A one story house so I can avoid stairs. I can’t even imagine.

4.       Less weeping from the wounds

I think Boob 1 and Boob 2.2 have forgiven me for the torment I have put them through. I am keeping it under wraps that they may see the OR table again in a few months. What they don’t know won’t hurt them.

For now, it’s nap time.  I can’t get rid of this exhausted feeling so I just give in with cat naps throughout the day. And since I can hardly keep my eyes open right now, I am giving in. I will check back in with you tomorrow.  

April 28, 2014- Change in surgery plans. (posted out of order)

Out of surgery. Last minute change in plans. He decided to do both breast instead of one. Didn't expect that at all and it caught me off guard. The right side had progressed since i saw him last. But all is well. Praises! A lot of pain, but working on that too. More formal update later. Thanks for the prayer support. Love to all.

April 28, 2014 - The love of a spouse (posted out of order).

Ron is exhausted. We climbed on the bed to adjust the two pressure vests I'm wearing. After we were done he laid his head down for less than thirty seconds. I asked him to grab the lotion for my dressings and he pops up very loudly says "it looks like salsa". I busted out laughing. He had fallen asleep and started dreaming in that thirty seconds. I asked him what looks like salsa? He said my wounds. Even he laughed. Bless him. He's cared for me without complaint!

April 29, 2014 - Surgery #4 (warning- contains pictures)

Surgery #4. April 29- Post op day #1 for surgery #4. I really thought I would get an update out yesterday, but the day got away from us once we got home and I was a bit too groggy to put my thoughts into cohesive words. You will be happy to know I had no verbal outbreaks while under anesthesia, so the world is all in order and my face can be shown out in public. Now that I have my wits back, I can safely pen some words here for you. Hopefully they will come out in some logical format as I’m definitely not at 100% mentally yet. 

When we arrived for surgery yesterday, we got off to a slower start. We had trouble getting my IV line placed. We’d find a vein, put the line in, but then we would blow the vein and infiltrate the fluids. I’m covered in wonderful dark purple bruises today as a result, but finally we found one in my hand that worked. I have always been a nightmare for a line care nurse. After the line was place, Lead Plastic Surgeon came by to develop a plan (after I charged him the routine $10 a peek- gotta make up some money somehow!) Well after the preliminary groping, what I thought was going to be a little lipo-grafting to Boob 1 (left side) turned into lipo-grafting of both Boob 1 and Boob 2.2. It’s an understatement to say I was a little shocked and boob 2.2 definitely was caught off guard. Here he has been trying to build 1 up with comforting words only to have the rug pulled out from under his feet 10 minutes before heading into the OR. Evidently the right side had started developing the dimpling since my last visit. I had noticed that but did not know how much would be enough to warrant surgery. One good thing in the end is that it removes one more surgery from my upcoming to-do list. So that is a definite silver lining to a dark cloud. The down side is now I have two boobs under maintenance instead of 1. You should have seen my body after he came into the room. (I will insert here I am having a really hard time typing with this grogginess, so my apologies if the words end up all jumbled. Hang in there with me). I was covered in marker drawings- both boobs and all over my stomach. A Van Gough masterpiece to say the least. If I was not so modest I would have taken a picture for you. You will get to see some of it here in the pics I will post, but not everything. After weighing out his options he decided to take the fat from the abdomen. Unfortunately, he didn't take enough for me to notice a change in tummy contour. What a bummer. Seems to me that if you are having liposuction, you might as well make it worth it! Evidently, he didn't share that same thought process. He wanted to only take just enough so I would have less complications in the long run. I should be grateful, but seriously, I had a chance at liposuction! If you had asked me 5 years ago, I would have sworn I would never have plastic surgery on any part of my body but alas….mastectomy changed me a good bit. Now 4 surgeries later, I’m an expert. In the end, he pulled out some volume of fat and injected it in a rainbow pattern across the tops of both breast. You can see the dotted line in the pictures I will post. We could play Connect the Dots a little later if we get bored. Then number them for a Paint by Numbers party if you feel so inclined. Bring your own drink. I will provide the markers and canvas. Might as well have some fun while we are going through this, right? Anyway, it’s done. Both boobs have been sufficiently bloated and we wait and see how well the blood supply restores itself. (See the post from March 31- flip this boob if you need some background information.) I will see the surgeon next week to check the incision sites then 3 months later go back again to see if we need to repeat the procedure. He thinks we will need to have surgery again - most patients do as the fat starts reabsorbing itself. I told him I was probably at low risk for that because I had been working for 20 years now to try and have my fat reabsorb. If you can’t laugh what can you do.

 Last night we had a little scare. We opened up the surgical vests to check the sites and noticed I was weeping a good bit in the abdominal area. We had soak through both pads and out onto the vest. He has told me to expect massive bruising as he knew I bruised when I did something as simple as sneeze, but I wasn't prepared for the leaking/weeping. Quick call to the surgeon and he said it was ok, just to change the pads out as needed. I’m a bit sore in all 3 areas, but it’s tolerable and maybe even better than I was expecting so yet again another silver lining. Just taking everything in stride and being low-key/confined to the sofa for the next few days while it heals. I’m learning mastectomy as well as reconstruction is an ongoing process. I really thought that I would have 1 surgery for mastectomy followed by one more surgery for reconstruction, but I’m finding that this is just an ongoing process and I’m still likely not done. Thankfully though, I have peace about that. All of this is minor in the whole scheme of things. And if all of this allows me to have a cancer free future, it’s worth it. Come what may, we can tackle it all. God is still God and God is still good. That’s my motto moving forward. I’m making this post quick since I’m struggling with my thoughts and typing today- maybe tomorrow will be better as the anesthesia and stuff continues to wear off. Thank you for all of your thoughts and prayers, it means much to both of us. Wish us luck as we start the process today of scraping off betadine stains. I’m sure that is going to be a real treat for us both. Fun all around.

A few pictures below so you can get a general idea for Surgery 101 classes. I tried to keep them tasteful but also to give you an idea of what you can expect if you find yourself in this boat.

1) The chest and abdomen wrap. Velcro up and down the center. Not the most comfortable thing on the planet.
2) the abdominal bruising and two insertion sites. It's not as bloated as it looks. I had to poke it all out to get a pic. If this pic doesn't steer you away from elective liposuction- I don't know what will. But if you have to have it for recon- I promise you you will survive.
3 and 4) Looking down on the top of the chest. You can see the marker dots and the bruising that is starting.



Click  www.tradinginthetatas.blogspot.com to access other posts. 

Legacy

http://player.subsplash.com/e10270d

 I want this to be my legacy. God is still God, and God is still good. Who's life is going to be changed because of your journey? Amazing video and testament of Zac.

April 25, 2014 - History repeats itself

A friend of mine has been following my blog and has also been a faithful supporter of my up and downs. She’s cried with me, she’s laughed with me, she’s been angry with me, she’s been excited with me. Recently, she has been fearful with me. Afraid of me making more blunders under anesthesia (Gimme a B! B!). She knows I am terrified of repeating that now that I have done it twice following my last surgery. We’ll call her Kate for the sake of the story and to protect the guilty. Kate herself recently required a minor medical procedure, let’s say dental,  and totally unrelated to the boob. She had shared with her spouse my story and the blunders I had made. Laughing at the absurdity of what I had done, but now fully aware we must not be immune to crazy talk when medication is pumping through your veins. Aware of her upcoming procedure, Kate was now worked up with anxiety about the risk of making a similar outburst. Well, low and behold! Her procedure occurred and a few minutes later her fear came to fruition! Now captured on film (courtesy of her husband) is a rounding rendition of Gimme a B! Gimme an O! Even more hysterical that her procedure had nothing to do with boobs at all! Proof that the subconscious mind and the power of suggestion is a might warrior. So now I have to add a disclaimer to my words moving forward.  Consider yourself warned.  Of course, Kate was kind enough to send me a message letting me know I was rubbing off on her. I surely had hoped it would be a different trait of mine to spread around. So sorry, Kate. (Misery does love company though and I really needed that laugh).

Less than 72 hours from now bright and early Monday morning I will find myself back in that very same OR. Dear God, please consider me your faithful servant and please protect me from the verbal outbursts of myself. As a backup plan, I have banned the use of all cameras or recording capabilities from my room until 24 hours post procedure and have threatened Ron with huge retaliation should he observe me do something crazy and not throw his body on top of me to save me from myself. All of your future is at risk, Ron! And “Wonton”, the 8 year old mental prodigy, I will temporarily have to ban you from my presence as well. Your memory is just too perfect for me to consider you safe.  And for the next 72 hours I will be repeating over and over in my head the word “silence”.

Boob 1 is only slightly anxious about her impending bloat. I keep reminding her that Boob 2.2 will be right there by her side the entire procedure providing a comforting empathetic shoulder to lean on. I also tell her how grateful I will be to have her around in her new state the next time I find myself in need of a flotation device. Right now in her loosely deflated state she serves me little purpose. She doesn't believe me though and fears with doom and despair the approach of the 40 foot long needle.  (She exaggerates when she is worked up.)  She really is lucky though. There is some other portion of my body (where - to be determined) that is going to be blindsided Monday morning. It has no idea it will be violated and stripped of its inner most precious cellulite. Boy, will that be a rude awakening.  Nothing like waking up one morning and finding a piece of yourself stolen and re-gifted to a neighbor.  That’s a bad day.

I myself am simply trying to claim the promise of His will being a thousand times better than mine. My friend, R, who has been through almost the exact same procedure promises me this will be simple. Not pain free, but with quick recovery. And NO DRAINS! It really doesn't get any better than that. Just got to duct tape my brain shut to keep out the stupid surgical images I googled.  In the meantime, I am keeping all parties involved very busy. The theater, bowling, dinner out, worship, sleep. Lots of sleep. I’m good to go.

Disclaimer: Statements made in this writing may be detrimental to your ability to control yourself. Writer not responsible for emotional damaged obtained as a result of your reading and response. 

April 10, 2014 - Just Like hunting Easter eggs, huh?

I made a mistake of doing research. WHY in the world did I go and do that!?! I always want to tell people “get educated, be your own advocate, ask questions”, but boy did that backfire on me again. I went and read up on lipomodeling. I saw images of lipomodeling. I now don’t think I want to go through lipomodeling. I recall I made this very mistake back before signing up for the mastectomy. Late one night while visiting my sister, I stayed up until like 3 in the morning researching images of mastectomy scarring. Those images of early day mastectomy haunt me to this day. That whole night haunts me to this day. Well, you would think I had learned my lesson with that tragic internet inquiry. But noooo, my curiosity got the best of me, and I searched out information to be a little better informed. Well let me just say…the thought of a suction tube being shoved in and out of my skin to retrieve and then deposit fat into my breast envelop to lessen the “thinning” risk over the implant has got me all freaked out. I lie in bed at night and see the image of pinching an inch, inserting a suction tube…..ahhhhhhh!!! Serenity now, my friend! Are you telling me that some people do this on purpose all for the sake of beauty? Surely they had no idea what was going to be happening to them. Surely they didn’t just elect to do this on purpose. And on top of that you get to syringe it with a long needle into your boob in just the right places to provide tissue for blood flow. Why can’t I just go into things blindly, huh? Why do I always have to know? I always have to overachieve. And it keeps backfiring on me. What was “no anxiety at all” is now a tad bit (a big bit) of mental discomfort. If you are out there and have had this done, I’m more than happy to have you tell me this is a piece of cake. No more effort than going out to hunt Easter eggs on a nice spring day with trees blossoming all around in the background all while you swish your crisp yellow Easter dress as you stroll through the field and at most having to exert a little energy to stoop down to pluck the tie-dye egg out of the lush green turf. Instantly, you rise back up with a great big smile on your face in recognition of the luck of your find and immediately forget you had to exert a little effort to stoop down to begin with. Mercy me.

April 4, 2014 - Gimme a B!

I’ve unintentionally created a biography. A biography recorded by an eight year-old with a bobbed haircut and the longest fingers and toes you’ve ever seen on a child of her age. Much to my dismay in addition to her super cute appearance, she has an incredibly accurate and lengthy memory. Years ago (and for this update) as a term of endearment I called her “Wonton”. She hears everything and absolutely nothing slips by her. It’s almost eerie. And at the moment when you least expect it, out of her mouth will come a story or line from your past that you don’t even remember saying. She truly has total recall. Hopefully, what you hear is a memoir of the time you left the hamburger meat from your grocery visit out of the refrigerator overnight only to find a horrible smell wafting from your kitchen the following morning. These are fun stories you like to recall. Other times, the story you would rather let pass-by without notation, but wonton just happened to catch you in the moment of verbiage regurgitation which is then forever sealed in the vault of her genius.

It was totally unintentional, I promise, as I did not at the time have full use of all of my faculties. I was under the influence. Slightly held captive by an outside force. A trio cocktail of intravenous kidnappers. Versed, you know you are to blame along with your nasty roommate, Propofol, and the guy down the hall, Dilaudid. You are to blame for her exposure to my temporary insanity. Most of you know the story already. You read it almost a year ago this week, but if you missed it you can check out “April 8, 2013- Houston, we have a problem”. You’ll recall an over-zealous excitement of mine after learning I did in fact get my Implant returned. I came out of the OR, recovered in the PACU, and led each of the nurses, a surgical fellow, and even my husband, who unfortunately didn’t have the foresight to duct tape my mouth closed, in a rounding chant of Implant....Gimme a “I”, gimme me a “M”, gimme me a “P”, gimme a “L”….well and you get the big picture. We were all chanting at the top of our lungs pouring out our excitement for this crazy lady (that would be me) in the OR who was beside herself when she found out she got her boob back. And it doesn’t even end there! When they rolled me up to my room on the surgical unit, I followed it up with another just as glorious version of Gimme a “B”, gimme me an “O”, gimme another “O”, gimme a “B” while laying right there in the hallway as they swung my bed through the doorway. Holy moly, I did it again all in one day and this time with my entire family, several floor nurses, and low and behold total-recall-genius WONTON in attendance. Oh my, oh my, oh my. Anyone but Wonton! When my trio of kidnappers had faded into the background, and I learned of my verbal mishap, I was mortified. And don’t forget I work with these people! As months pass by, I secretly hoped that Wonton will slip into early dementia and forget the day I fell trap to the medication bondage. I’m oh so very hopeful that day will come. Surely it will come and my dignity may be restored for the long-term.

Just a few days ago a family member was scheduled for back surgery. A soon as Wonton heard about the upcoming surgery, she called up the family member and said “Are you going to talk crazy in your head like Sally did? Give me a “B” Give me an “O”….! Except you can spell B-A-C-K”. Hanging my head down in shame that another year has passed and the memory has only been solidified in her vault to be shouted out at any opportunity. I couldn’t be more excited to know my next procedure is scheduled on a school day. I might just slip under her radar. And Ron, maybe a little better wing man action this go round to prevent me from further total humility in the building where I come and go from work every day. Just saying.

April 2, 2014 - Pardon my Snafu

I guess I made a snafu on my part. Many of you have let me know I left a crucial notation out of my last post. You know how you plan out your task, make a check box to do list (though you may find it funny that I draw a little box next to my task, but when the task is complete I actually cross out the task. I never said I don’t have issues), then work your way logically down the list until all is accomplished. In the end you have the perfectly planned 20th year high school reunion complete with “guess that student” games, burgundy and gold decorations hanging from every nook and cranny, sequin sprinkles placed on each table top, and the cutest little mascot shaped mints and 1993 shaped cookies on the welcome counter. 6 pm arrives and Voila! You have a DJ, an eclectic décor, but you have no guests! After racking your brain, consulting your to-do list, and phoning a friend, you quickly come to the realization that you never mailed out the invites. There they sit in a neatly arranged tower on your desk in your home office. See, it happens to all of us. You get busy with your best intentions, and number 51 on your to-do list of 100 is left undone. Well, you guys didn’t miss a beat and were very quick to let me know of my snafu. I should hire one of you as my assistant (Erika, send me your resume) to keep me on track and out of the gully.

Well drum roll and spotlight please….. Item # 51 happens to be “April 28th early morning”. Yes, that is when Boob 1 shall meet his maker (Lead Plastic Surgeon) once again for a little reunion party. Lead Plastic Surgeon is probably a bit more excited about the meeting than Boob 1. Boob 1 doesn’t get to pick out a fancy little party dress like most of us do for a reunion. Instead, he gets to make his grand appearance in a flesh colored birthday suit. Don’t people have bad dreams about that very thing??? Walking into a room with all your glory out there and NOT loving every minute of it. I’m planning to talk Boob 1 through his anxiety and remind him that Boob 2.2 will be right there by his side the entire time also in all his glory! Boob 1 will have a bosom buddy right there along for the ride. Now, more importantly who is going to help ME through my anxiety? Well you will be happy to know I have very little anxiety about this. Virtually none. Maybe because 28 days is a long ways away in the whole scheme of things and there is much to do unrelated to this procedure between now and then. Also, it helps knowing it is outpatient. No overnight stay just like my reconstruction surgery. But the benefit being very light sedation or maybe even just numbing – though I see myself advocating for a bit more than that. We can compare it to get a cavity repaired, right? But seriously, do I really want to be aware of someone repeatedly shoving injections into my Imposter? I see me watching the needles come toward my chest and me, out of instinct, whacking his hand away with such force that the syringes fly in slow motion through the air landing in the emerald green eye of the poor OR nurse who got called in unexpectedly last minute after a night out on the town to cover the surgery. Suddenly, all attention turns to her now deflated eye and Boob 1 is left to be rescheduled with VERY heavy sedation. Ah, no. I can say that with quite a bit of certainty that I want to do this once and only once. Oh yeah, and I’m equally concerned for the nurse’s eye.

There you have it. Item #51 is no longer missing and those of your with OCD that need the list 100% complete like I do. You may now rest your weary head with satisfaction. And my apologies for the snafu on my part. Thank you much for caring enough to ask for the missing piece.